


The Storm

by szm



Series: Frank Sharpe and the Devil [3]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark Character, Dark Foggy, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 07:24:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10680501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/szm/pseuds/szm
Summary: Set in a world where 'Foggy' Nelson was raised by his mother Rosalind Sharpe and grew into Frank Sharpe. An altogether different man.Sharpe goes to visit Matt at Fogwell's Gym with a warning...





	The Storm

Matt heard him coming, picked up the sound of his heartbeat and the click of expensive shoes just outside the door. Matt concentrated for a moment but there was no-one else around. He carried on punching the heavy bag, enjoying the way the impact made him feel solid, grounded. The door to Fogwell’s opened and Frank Sharpe stepped through. He sniffed in a disapproving way. 

“My, what a great place to get hepatitis,” he announced loudly.

“Feel free to be somewhere else,” replied Matt catching the bag and his breath. “What are you doing here?” 

“I knew you’d be here,” said Sharpe with a shrug. “Warm and fuzzy childhood memories of your Dad and all that…” From where Sharpe was stood Matt figured he was looking at the peeling ‘Murdock vs Creel’ poster. 

“You don’t talk about my Dad,” snarled Matt.

Sharpe held his hands up as if placating, he made it a big enough gesture for Matt to be sure to pick it up, but it was at odds with what he said next. “I talk about what I like. First amendment, counsellor. But let’s not fight. I hear congratulations are in order. Fisk is behind bars and you put him there. _Well done you._ ” Sharpe clapped three times slowly. It echoed in the empty gym, the way the sound bounced around gave Matt a very clear outline of Sharpe for half a second.

Matt winced at the obvious sarcasm. “I thought you wanted Fisk gone?” He moved away from the bag towards his bag, and started unwrapping his fists.

“Oh you sweet, naive, fool,” said Sharpe, his voice sweet but his tone nasty. “Prison is no barrier to getting business done. He still has money. He’ll have _lawyers_ to pass messages, and I’d bet on him taking over the prison eventually. He is a survivor, you have to give him that. All you’ve really done is switch Fisk’s perception of himself from hero to villain. If anything you’ve made him more dangerous. Still, it’s given me some opportunities I wouldn’t have had otherwise. Hopefully I can solidify my base before Fisk gets up and running again.”

“I made you a promise,” said Matt darkly. “I’m coming after you next.”

“And I told you I look forward to it,” said Sharpe, heartbeat steady. He wasn’t scared at all. It made Matt feel reckless, like he wanted to push at Sharpe’s cool exterior. Find an actual honest emotion, _make_ him scared. “But for now I wanted to give you a warning.”

“Why does everything you say sound like a threat?” asked Matt.

“A warning,” clarified Sharpe. “Something new is coming.”

“Something new?” asked Matt, intrigued despite himself. 

“Come on now,” said Sharpe. “You’re a hell’s kitchen boy. Don’t tell me you can’t feel the wind change? Madame Goa is pulled out of the kitchen all together. The Irish and the Dogs of War are twitchy, someone’s stalking them. It’s quiet. Like before a storm.”

“Or before a fight,” said Matt agreeing without meaning too.

Sharpe heartbeat was coming a little faster now, excitement. “The world is changing, new avenues opening up. Alliances to be made and broken. I love this part. Everything feels new again.”

“Alliances? Is that why you’re here?” asked Matt. “Because I won’t _align_ myself with a criminal like you.”

Sharpe just laughed. “Oh like everything you do is legal and above board. You can tell yourself you beat people up for justice. But I know better. I’ve _seen_ you. Dancing across rooftops and wading in with your fists. A boxer who likes the pain. Just like your old man…”

Matt had Sharpe against the wall, pinned with an arm against his throat, before he’d really registered moving. “I told you, you don’t talk about my Dad.”

There was a flash of surprise, even fear, in Sharpe’s smell and his heartbeat, but it was gone like a summer storm. Sharpe relaxed into the hold like he knew he wasn’t going anywhere but he was okay with that. “Noted,” he croaked, forcing the word past the constriction on his throat. Sharpe smelt like white flowers and citrus. Bright and clean. But under that was cheap liquor, gun fire, blood…

Matt let him go and took a step back.

“ _There_ you are,” said Sharpe, a satisfied quality in his tone. Matt would bet he was smirking. “All barely controlled rage and impotent violence. Not my M.O. but you work it, I have to say. I don’t expect you to work for me Matty, in the end everybody works for themselves. People only let you down when you forget that. I’m saying if it comes to the crunch, I prefer the old hell’s kitchen boy to whoever or whatever is blowing in from out of town. I think you might too. And they do say, any port in a storm, right?”

“You didn’t grow up here, _Sharpe_ ,” said Matt nastily.

Sharpe shrugged. “I have roots, just as deep as yours. I know what it’s like to have the grime of this place as part of your DNA. Try as she might my Mother never managed to scrub it out of me completely.”

“Fisk was a ‘hell’s kitchen boy’,” argued Matt.

“Nah,” dismissed Sharpe. “He wanted to change it, _rebuild_ ,” Sharpe spat the word like a curse. “But this place, she resists that kind of thing.” He looked straight at Matt, Matt could feel the weight of his gaze. “I have things to protect too, hero. You will either be helping me with that or I swear to your God I will remove you.”

“Threatening again?” asked Matt.

“I don’t threaten,” said Sharpe darkly. “Not you anyway, call it a promise.”

With that parting shot Sharpe was heading back towards the door. “See you later _Foggy_ ,” Matt called after him. A last ditch attempt to shake the other man a little. 

Sharpe’s laughter was still ringing in Matt’s ears long after the man himself had gone.

**Author's Note:**

> AN - Fair warning, I have next to no idea where this is going, I just like writing Frank Sharpe. Hopefully there will be some more to this story. Pretty sure the Punisher and Electra are going to turn up. Also fairly certain Sharpe and Matt are going to end up having sex. Also pretty sure neither of them are going to be very pleased about that. But please bear with me.
> 
> Also I really want Foggy Nelson to meet Frank Sharpe... but that's a different story I think...


End file.
